


Broken

by msred



Series: Puckleberry Shuffle [7]
Category: Glee
Genre: Beth - Freeform, Fatherhood, Lifehouse, Quinn - Freeform, Shelby - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-07 10:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msred/pseuds/msred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight/Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my timeI am here still waiting though I still have my doubts/I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out"</p><p>Puck heard the shuffling; he knew someone was in his room, most likely cleaning up the mess he had made. Without lifting his face from his pillow, he groped around until he found another one. Finally getting a good grip on it, he fisted it and flung it in the direction of the noise. "No. Ma, Sarah, out. I'll take care of it. I swear. Just … right now … ya gotta go. I can't do this now."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

**Broken – Lifehouse ~ {www[dot]youtube[dot]com/watch?v=I6cdPeYJh0s}**

**_The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight  
Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time  
I am here still waiting though I still have my doubts  
I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out_ **

Puck heard the shuffling; he knew someone was in his room, most likely cleaning up the mess he had made. Without lifting his face from his pillow, he groped around until he found another one. Finally getting a good grip on it, he fisted it and flung it in the direction of the noise. "No. Ma, Sarah, out. I'll take care of it. I swear. Just … right now … ya gotta go. I can't do this now."

"Noah, I don't appreciate having my efforts at trying to help make your living space more presentable repaid by you accosting me, both verbally and physically. Even if the physical portion of the assault was just a quite pathetic toss of a pillow."

Ok, so he wasn't expecting that. He still didn't roll over to face her completely, but he turned his head so that the left side of his face rested on his pillow and he had this weird, cross-eyed, double-vision picture of Rachel Berry picking up his C.J. Wilson signed baseball from that Reds vs. Rangers game he went to with Mr. Hummel, Finn, Kurt, and Blaine. What? Just because he lived in Ohio didn't mean he couldn't have good taste. The Rangers rocked, and Cinci, well, they were barely even major league.

Rachel sat the baseball back on its stand and replaced the plexi-glass cover over it before addressing him again. "Your mother and sister went out to get food, and I think Rebecca said something about taking Sarah to your Nana Connie's for the night. The poor girl honestly looked traumatized." She rolled her eyes and kept picking up his personal belongings when his only response was an annoyed grunt. He continued to lie on the bed, unmoving, and watch her suspiciously. ( _Really? And he was suspicious of what? Foolish boy.)_ He finally reacted when she picked up his alarm clock and sat it on the night stand, pushing buttons to try to set the time correctly.

"Don't fuckin' touch that," his hand flew out quickly to grab hers before she had the chance to actually change anything, so the bright blue display continued to flash 12:00. "Just," his voice softened slightly and his fingers loosened around her wrist so that he was only holding it and not quite clutching at it, "leave it."

Rachel sighed and let the trash bag in her other hand slide out of her fingers before she sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. "Would you please explain to me why, when I called here an hour ago, I was greeted by your mother's frantic voice telling me it probably wasn't a good time, only to arrive here and be greeted at the door by a _trembling_ " she emphasized the word and he flinched a little, "11-year-old who threw her arms around my waist and wouldn't let go for five minutes? Then I come up here to find myself in the aftermath of Hurricane Puck and you … well, what are you doing? Pouting?"

Puck glared up at her, but only pushed himself up onto one elbow, refusing to put forth the effort (or give her the satisfaction) required to actually sit up. "Are you seriously fuckin' asking me that question?"

"Yes Noah. I am seriously _fucking_ asking you that question."

Puck's eyes grew at both her use of the profane word and the bitter tone that accompanied it. He sat up with his back against the headboard and faced her fully, figuring that he owed her at least that much. He had kind of forgotten, or ignored, the fact that he wasn't the only injured party in the room. "I don't want you to fix the clock," he spoke softly and dropped his eyes to his hand, which was currently picking at the threads becoming worn around the knee of his jeans, "'cause if the clock don't work, I can kinda pretend like tomorrow's not coming."

Rachel only sighed and moved farther onto the bed. She didn't say anything as she laced her fingers with his and squeezed gently.

**_I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing  
With a broken heart that's still beating  
In the pain, there is healing  
In your name I find meaning_ **

After what felt like several minutes (although, really, who would know, since he refused to have a working clock), Puck finally made eye contact and Rachel ventured to speak again. "I suppose I can understand that. I can certainly respect it." He didn't smile, but she was sure she saw something less painful flash through his eyes for just a second. "But Noah, you didn't answer my question. What is going on here?"

He jerked his hand out of hers and launched himself off the bed, pacing angrily across the short distance from one wall to the other. "I'm pissed, Rachel!" He nearly screamed at her, but she didn't even flinch. "I'm so fucking pissed I can't even stand to be in my own skin. And you!" he stopped at the foot of the bed and stared at her, raising a hand and pointing accusingly in her direction, "I don't understand you! You're just … just … here. You're here and you're fucking cleaning my room like it's nothing. God dammit Rachel! I'm fucking pissed and you should be too! I don't understand why you're not as upset about this as I am!" In an instant, he went from screaming to almost whispering so that Rachel found herself leaning forward to hear him. "I just don't get it. I don't get any of it."

Suddenly looking exhausted, as if he could no longer even support his own weight, Puck turned and dropped onto the bed. Rachel still didn't speak as she crawled slowly to sit beside him. When she reached his side, she sat on her knees, resting her weight back on her heels, and ran her hand slowly from the small of his back up to the back of his neck. When she rested her palm on the base of his mohawk and scratched her nails lightly over his scalp, he turned toward her quickly, wrapping his arms firmly around her waist and burying his head in the crook of her neck.

Rachel's fingers continued to play across his scalp as her other hand rose to rub large, soothing circles over his back. He never made a sound, and she didn't even feel him move, but after a few minutes she could feel the hot dampness soaking through her shirt. This was kind of new territory for Rachel; she was not usually the one doing the comforting. And even when Kurt or Mercedes were upset about something, they both used either anger or avoidance to deal with the situation. Some of her best outfits were the result of a fight between Kurt and Blaine. Or Kurt and Finn. Or Kurt and his dad. Or Kurt and anyone, really. She certainly expected Noah to be more of the 'angry-hurting-guy' type, and while that had obviously been the case earlier in the evening, that guy had now been replaced by the just plain hurting young man gripping her waist and crying into her shoulder. Part of her thought that maybe he had exhausted all the anger by now, but really, she believed it had more to do with her and the fact that she was the one on his bed holding him and trying to whisper soothing words into his ear, even if she had no idea what those words should be under the circumstances.

**_The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head  
I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead  
I still see your reflection inside of my eyes  
That are looking for a purpose, they're still looking for life_ **

"You suck Berry." Puck had untangled himself from her arms and was lying on his back with his feet still resting on the floor, staring up at his ceiling fan.

"You're welcome, Noah," she scoffed, back to cleaning up his room, picking up the broken pieces of _whatever_ that were all over his floor and dropping them into the trash bag she had brought up from the kitchen when she first arrived. "Anytime."

"I mean it." He reached out and wrapped his fingers around her wrist to stop her from moving to the other side of his room to clean up more of his mess. She let out a long breath and sat down next to him, looking down at his face as she waited for him to speak again. "I'm Puck, ya know?" She only tilted her head curiously and continued to look at him. He rolled his eyes when she didn't just _get it._ "I don't do _feelings_ or whatever. And people don't know what's goin' on in here," he tapped the side of his head. She continued to look at him, through him almost, until he sighed and moved his hand to cover the left side of his chest. He didn't make any more acknowledgement than that, but he was pretty sure she got it.

"But then there's you," he continued after her gazed softened. "And it's like you're just, in there, or somethin'." He didn't specify whether 'there' meant his head or his heart, and she didn't ask. "You just know shit."

Rachel shifted until she was sitting cross-legged on the bed and looking down at him with her hands in her lap. There was so much that she could say to that, but she got the feeling he had more to say.

"Like," she leaned a little closer to him, because he was suddenly speaking very softly, "you shouldn't even be here right now." Her brows furrowed and he shook his head. "Seriously, it's so fucked up that you, of all people, are here right now, picking up my pieces." They both knew he didn't mean it literally, but it was quite a coincidence. "And it kinda makes me feel like shit. Not 'cause I like, don't want you here or 'cause you're doing anything wrong. But just 'cause, well, it's not fair. To you, I mean."

Unsure of why she was doing it, Rachel laid next to him, their shoulders barely touching. It just seemed like the right thing to do. "Noah, I …" She really had no clue what she intended to say.

"But you're here anyway." He continued as if she hadn't spoken or changed her position on his bed. "And I didn't even know I wanted you here, but there you were, and you just looked at me, and it's like all the shit I was trying to say by fuckin' up my room and scarin' the shit outta Ma and Sarah was right there on your face. Just a lot less …"

"Violent?"

"Yeah." Puck's hand found Rachel's somewhere between their hips.

"I hurt too, Noah." He squeezed her hand in response. "This is a horrible situation that we should not have to be in. But we are. And we can go around being angry at each other about it, on top of everything else, or we can take advantage of the fact that there is at least one other person in the world … in this _town_ … who has some clue what we are going through and be there for each other."

**_I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing  
With a broken heart that's still beating  
In the pain, is there healing  
In your name I find meaning  
So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on  
I'm barely holdin' on to you_ **

"Do ya hate her?" It had been several minutes of the two of them lying in silence and watching the ceiling fan spin lazily above them when Puck spoke again.

"Which one?"

"Either." Puck didn't realize that his question had more than one meaning, but since she took it that way, he wanted to hear her take on both.

"Well, I don't hate Shelby. I don't think I ever could, even though I convinced myself there for a while that I did." Puck rolled onto his side to watch her as she spoke, but he continued to hold her hand. "I mean, our relationship has greatly improved over the past few months since she has been at McKinley. But even before she came back, I was starting to realize, and appreciate, what she really did by giving me up all those years ago." Puck thought that if anyone else had just said that to him, it would sound trite and patronizing, like they were just trying to make him feel better, but that wasn't Rachel. If she said it, she meant it. "What happened sophomore year was hard, and it really, really hurt, but I have started to understand that, too. So no. I don't hate her."

Puck shifted a little, lifting his hand, and hers by extension, to serve as a pillow under his cheek. "And Quinn?"

Rachel released a long, deliberate breath. "No. I don't hate her either. I guess I … well, I feel sorry for her."

Puck scoffed and Rachel felt his breath skitter across the inside of her forearm. "Rach, you realize this whole shitstorm is all her fault, right?"

"Yes Noah, I fully understand that. And that's precisely _why_ I feel sorry for her." She turned her head to face him for the first time since the conversation had turned to the other two women. Seeing his brows knitted in what she could only assume was painful tension, she lifted her free hand and ran her thumb up the bridge of his nose and over his forehead until she had coaxed away all the lines. "Because you and I, well, we can understand. We know that we did everything right. But Quinn, she's got some … issues … right now," Puck rolled his eyes. That was the understatement of the century. "And she can't see what we can see."

"I don't know about you Rach, but I sure as shit don't understand." His brows were coming together again, and again she lifted her hand to smooth them.

"This isn't the end, Noah, not for you, and not for me. But for Quinn, well, it may not be the _end_ end, but it's going to take a lot of time and a lot of effort on her part for it not to be. And for a long while, forever if she doesn't fix herself, it will certainly feel like the end to her."

Puck rolled away from Rachel onto his back, releasing her hand and interlocking his own fingers over his stomach. It was like she was talking in circles or something, and she wasn't making the least bit of sense. Her 'comforting' was starting to become much less so, and he was _this_ close to telling her to leave. "Berry, I don't know where you been, but this is the end. Shelby, _your mother_ , is getting on a plane tomorrow with Beth, _my daughter,_ and they're not coming back. And we got Quinn and all her fuckin' 'unfit mother, I want custody' crazy ass bullshit to thank. And let's not forget my part in this!" He laughed humorlessly, "The one fuckin' time in my life I do the right thing, and this is what I get."

Rachel sat up quickly, folding her hands primly in her lap. She stared at Puck's hands on his stomach and spoke slowly and deliberately. "I talked to Shelby."

Puck shot up as well, one hand gripping Rachel's shoulder tightly. "You … what? I mean, what did you … Shit." Puck scrubbed his free hand down his face before trying again. "Ok, I'm not sure I get it. What do you mean you talked to her? Like, _when_?"

"This morning."

**_I'm hangin' on another day  
Just to see what you throw my way  
And I'm hanging on to the words you say  
You said that I will be OK_ **

Rachel met his gaze, trying to keep up the confidence she had felt that morning. She knew she had done the right thing. And as upset as he might be that she did it behind his back, she had nothing to regret. "I went to her apartment this morning just as the movers were leaving. I asked if I could drive them to their hotel." She ignored the way his fingers dug into her shoulder but noticed his look of confusion and answered the unasked question hanging between them. "She didn't want to put Beth through the drive, so she is having her car shipped by the moving company as well. They are staying at the Hyatt out by the airport tonight then taking the shuttle to the terminal in the morning. Anyway," she continued on her previous train of thought, "she actually agreed to my request quite easily. I simply pointed out to her, as I just did to you, that I have done nothing wrong in this situation, and while she may not be my mom, she is my mother. And since we have formed a, well, a _something_ over the past few months, I would like to have some closure when she goes, unlike last time."

Rachel expected some kind of response from Puck, but she got nothing. He did remove his hand from her shoulder, probably realizing that if he didn't he was going to leave bruises (not that she would ever hold it against him, under the circumstances), but he didn't do anything else. "Would you like to know what we talked about on the drive?"

His eyes were wide as he stared at her, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before any words actually came out. "I don't know. Would I?" She nodded her head slowly and he reached for her hands, not sure what he was bracing himself for, but sure that it was something.

"We talked about you, Noah." She watched the emotions sweep over his face; anger, hurt, confusion, hope (mostly hope). When he finally seemed settled on one, or really, a combination of a few (still, mostly hope), she continued. "I reminded her that you hadn't done anything wrong either. You just wanted to be a part of your daughter's life, even if technically Beth is Shelby's daughter now. I didn't point out," she added almost bitterly, "that you went about it in a much healthier way than she did." He almost ( _almost_ ) laughed at that. "And I assured her that you had absolutely no part in Quinn's plans, which I think she was afraid of even though you were the one who told her about it. I think she thought maybe you were playing both sides of the fence, you know?" He lowered his eyes and nodded. He hated that he was that guy (used to be that guy?), the one who people might believe that about, and he couldn't even be mad at her for it.

"But I told her Noah, I swore to her that wasn't you. I told her about that picture on your phone that you go around showing everyone, and about the time you showed up at my front door telling me how awesome my 'little sister' was because she actually played a melody on some toy guitar. But mostly I told her how much you wanted Beth to have a good life that you could just play some role in, even if it wasn't the role of 'father.'"

"What … umm, what did she say?" He kept his head down but looked up at her through his lashes, his hands clenching and unclenching in hers.

"Not a lot," Rachel chuckled as she slipped her hands from his and stood from the bed to make her way across the room toward his desk, where her purse rested. "You know how I can be when I get started." She blushed a little as he nodded his agreement, looking a little deflated that apparently her little speech hadn't really accomplished anything. "But then we got to the hotel, and I went in with her to the business center, and we got this." She walked back to the bed and thrust a computer print-out in front of his face.

He skimmed over the paper, not quite sure how to make out what was in front of him. He had only been on a plane once, and Mr. Schue took care of all that stuff, just handing them each a boarding pass right before they went through security, but he was pretty sure he was looking at a plane ticket or flight reservation or whatever it was you had to have to get that boarding pass. And there were two names on it; his and Rachel's.

"Two weeks," Rachel said, and his head snapped up as she pulled him back to reality. "That's when their house will be ready and they will leave the condo they're staying in until then. And Shelby's going to need a sitter, or two, to help with Beth while she gets everything unpacked."

"Are you … Is this … Shit Rachel." It took a few tries for Puck to actually get out a complete sentence. "Don't tell me you're not serious. Please God be serious." He scooted to the edge of the bed as he spoke, waiting tensely with his feet on the floor and his hands fisting the edge of the mattress for her to answer.

"When have I ever not been serious Noah?" Rachel had more to say, but she had the wind knocked out of her when Puck threw himself off the bed and at her.

"I think I love you, Rachel Berry," he felt her stiffen in his arms and laughed into her hair. "Not like that, geez. You're my kid's big sister. How sick do you think I am?" She smacked him on the back but didn't try to pull away, so he figured she got it. He did love her. At that moment, he loved her more than anyone in the world, except Beth. She had gotten Beth back for him, in some way. No, it wouldn't be the same as having her just on the other side of town, and Chicago wasn't exactly close. But it wasn't exactly far, either, and if Rachel had gotten Shelby to agree to this first visit so soon, he figured she had opened a door for him that he probably would never have been able to get through on his own. So yeah, he loved her for that.

"But Rach," she hummed against his shoulder, "next time, lead with the good stuff." He chuckled into her hair.

Rachel pulled back enough to look into his eyes. "You weren't ready to hear it when I first got here." He only closed his eyes and pulled her back against him.

**_The broken lights on the freeway left me here alone  
I may have lost my way now, haven't forgotten my way home_ **

"Why?"

"Hmm?" Rachel had again returned to cleaning Puck's room, with his help this time. She was still picking up things that were unsalvageable and placing them in the trash bag (along with a few articles of clothing that were WAY past their prime, but she had to be a bit more careful that he didn't see those). Puck was gathering the things he hadn't broken or otherwise destroyed and putting them back in their rightful places.

"Why?" he said again, waiting with his forearm resting atop his dresser to hear her answer.

"Noah, I," she chuckled as she turned to face him from the corner where she was currently carefully picking through shards of glass and wood and trying to save the picture of Puck, Finn, and herself that had been in the frame, when it still was a frame. "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to give me a little more to work with." She held the trash bag in one hand and rested the other on her hip, watching him with an expectant smile.

"Why'd you do it? I mean," he sighed, "I get why you went over in the first place, but it woulda been real easy for you to just get yourself back in there. You risked a lot by even bringin' me into it, ya know? She coulda just got pissed and shut you out again. So, why?"

Again, Puck's forehead was creased and his brows were furrowed. Rachel didn't even try to resist the urge to cross the room and gently smooth away the lines. "You must stop doing that Noah. You're going to age yourself terribly."

"I'm sorry," he laughed, "is this better?" He rested his hands on her shoulders and dropped his head so that his forehead rested against hers.

Puck's eyes crossed as they were drawn to movement, and he looked down to see Rachel's lips forming into small smile. "It is if it'll keep those lines off your face."

He laughed and pulled her into a quick hug before moving away from her again. "No more lines, see?" she nodded. "So now will you answer my question?"

Rachel exhaled slowly and took a few steps back until the backs of her thighs hit the edge of the mattress. Pushing herself up onto the bed, she thought about her words carefully before speaking. "I couldn't bear the thought that 15 years from now Beth could wake up hating you, thinking you just gave her away because you didn't want her. It's not fair. Not to Beth, and not to you." She internally berated herself for apparently not thinking quite hard enough when she saw a look of panic take residence on his face.

"I … I thought you said you don't hate her? You said you never hated her." One of Puck's hands was clenching and unclenching over a corner of the dresser and the other ran nervously up and down his pant leg.

"I don't. And I didn't. But for a while there, I really thought I did." Rachel slid off the bed and walked back to stand in front of him, sliding one hand over his shoulder and down the length of his arm to slip into his much larger one. "And I don't want that for the two of you for even a second." She squeezed his hand. "But we don't have to worry about that now. You are going to be a huge, wonderful part of that little girl's life. And she's going to grow up knowing that there is an amazing man who loves her and wants nothing but the best for her and has done everything in his power to make that happen. Take it from a girl who grew up with two dads, there is nothing better than that."

**_I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing  
with a broken heart that's still beating  
In the pain there is healing  
In your name I find meaning  
So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on  
I'm barely holdin' on to you_ **

Nearly an hour after finally getting Puck's room back to a livable condition and accepting his mother's offer to stay for dinner (to say that she was happy with the state of her house and her son when she returned would be an understatement), Rachel found herself back in his room watching a movie that she should not be enjoying as much as she was. ( _"Really Noah, just the name is repugnant. Why on Earth would I want to watch a movie about the negative after-effects of being intoxicated?" "Yeah, you don't get it Berry. 'The Hangover' is awesome. We're watchin'.")_ She lay on her stomach with her upper body facing the foot of the bed and the dresser, which held the television. Puck had propped himself against the headboard, his legs crossed at the ankle next to her hip.

Rachel moved a hand to cover her mouth, hoping that Puck wouldn't hear the giggle escaping her throat. Apparently she wasn't successful, because she felt a strong hand circle one of her ankles as her feet kicked casually in the air behind her. Before she had a chance to try to pull out of his grasp, another hand began to tickle the bottom of her foot. "What, you liked that part?"

"Noah!" she squealed, kicking violently and upsetting the bowl of popcorn that had rested between them.

"Not so 'repugnant' now, huh?" Puck's deep laugh rumbled through the room and caused the bed to vibrate a little. The vibrations were lost when Rachel flipped her body and began thrashing wildly, anything to get him to stop touching her foot.

"Noah," she forced out breathlessly. "I … you … STOP!" she cried, shaking with laughter.

After one last attack, Puck let her go, falling back onto his pillows and smirking to himself. He turned his head to look at her when she sighed, satisfied by the way she was still struggling to catch her breath and the mussed appearance of her hair.

"So," he quirked an eyebrow at her when she spoke after finally evening out her breathing, "what does she call you? I mean, I'm guessing 'Dada' is out."

"Well, right now she don't really say much of anything," he laughed. "But when I first showed up, Shelby called me Puck. I put a stop to that real fast," he scoffed. "My kid, whether she's technically sposed to be mine or not, ain't gonna know me as Puck. So then it was Noah, and the last few times it was even 'Uncle Noah.' I think I like it." He smiled, remembering the last time he went to Shelby's apartment and the way Beth giggled from her playpen when her mother announced that 'Uncle Noah' was there.

Rachel giggled and Puck looked down to make sure that he wasn't anywhere near her foot. "What?" he nudged her hip with his knee.

"Shelby always calls me 'Aunt Rachel.'" She kept giggling, and apparently it was contagious. Before he realized it, they were both laughing loudly and Puck had rolled onto his side and was sucking in deep breaths to calm himself. "We have a room." Rachel surprised him by speaking again. He didn't actually realize that she had stopped laughing.

"Oh really?" he smirked and walked his index and middle fingers up her calf until she slapped his hand away.

"Don't be crass Noah. We're talking about your daughter here." It was her turn to smirk when his eyes grew and he shifted away from her. "But yes, really. Shelby's new house is a four-bedroom, so in addition to the traditional guestroom, there is going to be a 'Rachel and Noah' room. Or should I say an 'Aunt Rachel and Uncle Noah' room."

Puck's face grew serious and he pushed himself up to a sitting position, his legs outstretched in front of him and one hand on Rachel's knee. "You serious Rach?"

Rachel propped herself on her elbows, but when she saw the look on his face, she sat up so that her position mirrored his. "Again Noah, I'm always serious. Now, don't get any ideas mister, the room will have two twin beds and Shelby promised me a closet large enough to change in, _with_ a lock. That locks from the inside." She smiled warmly at him as she took in his somewhat befuddled expression. "But yes, we get our own room at Shelby's house. She said that she thought having a place that was ours would help Beth. She will associate us both as more permanent, familial figures that way. I already e-mailed her several pictures of each of us that she is going to print and frame for the room. I think it's a wonderful plan, really."

"It was your plan, wasn't it?"

"Maybe," her face glowed at the confession. "What … what are you doing?" Rachel scooted back a little when Puck began to crawl toward her.

"Chill Rach," he rolled his eyes, "I'm just gonna hug ya." She smiled sheepishly and moved toward him to let him envelop her in his arms. "You're my best friend, Rachel."

Rachel didn't miss the serious tone that thickened his voice. "I thought Finn was your best friend." She smiled into his shoulder when he shrugged.

"Yeah, Finn's my boy." He briefly squeezed her a little tighter. "But you're my best friend. I don't know … I mean, just, thank you."

**_I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on  
I'm barely holdin' on to you_ **

 


End file.
